Watching Wax Figures Sing in Hollywood on Parade No. A-8

Is it worth your time?

Honestly? Only if you have ten minutes to kill and a high tolerance for vintage weirdness. If you’re a fan of early animation or want to see Bela Lugosi look incredibly confused, go for it. If you’re looking for a coherent story, you’re in the wrong place.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Hollywood on Parade No. A-8 (1933) through its definitive frames.

The whole thing feels like someone decided to film a fever dream at a wax museum. The premise of Eddie Borden coming to life to act as a tour guide is charming in a low-budget, slightly desperate kind of way. It’s definitely not Three Cornered Moon, that’s for sure. It has none of the polish.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Hollywood on Parade No. A-8 (1933) through its definitive frames.

Waxing poetic

There is a moment where the wax figure of Rex Bell is pining over his wife’s statue. It feels so hollow. You can almost feel the actor trying to remember his lines while standing next to a doll. It’s the kind of clumsy staging that makes you realize movies were still figuring out how to be more than just a filmed play.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Hollywood on Parade No. A-8 (1933) through its definitive frames.

Then Betty Boop shows up. It’s a total shift in tone. Seeing an animated character interact with a live-action host is always going to look a bit janky, but there’s something oddly endearing about it. They sing 'My Silent Love' and the audio quality is exactly what you expect—thin, scratchy, and somehow perfectly fitting for the grainy visuals.

Random thoughts:

• Bela Lugosi is in this, but he barely registers. It’s like he just wandered onto the set by accident.
• The lighting in the wax museum makes everyone look like they’re melting.
• I spent most of the runtime wondering if the wax figures were actually just actors standing very still.
• The transition between the musical numbers and the museum tour is non-existent. It just happens.

It reminds me a bit of the disjointed energy in The Pip from Pittsburg, where you’re just waiting for the next bit to start. Nothing flows. It just jumps. 🎥

It’s not a masterpiece, but it’s a weird little artifact. Kind of like finding an old newspaper in your attic that you don't remember putting there. You don't need it, but you're glad you found it for five minutes.